Made to Be Broken
by Moxie-Proxie
Summary: Looking down into those dark brown eyes, he knew he loved her more than he could ever put into words. For a moment, standing there with her face cupped in his hands, he contemplated kissing her. [AllisonNathan, Preseries]


Ever since she moved in - and he'd taken up residence on the couch - he'd been dreaming about babies. Allie worried about taking his bed, but he didn't mind. If giving up his bed meant she would stay, he would gladly sleep on the sofa the rest of his life. His new-found dreams of fatherhood, weren't the couch's fault anyway. That was just plain old excitement; he was fascinated each day, by the ways Allie's body changed and grew.

He was dreaming of rocking Kevin in his arms, singing him to sleep, when his own name sliced through the sweet fog of unconsciousness. Flinging back the covers, her voice filled his ears as he stumbled in the dark, taking the stairs two at a time. Guided only by moonlight, he prayed to a God that he couldn't prove existed, that she was all right.

"Nathan!" Her voice carried to him down the hall, chilling his skin.

"Allie, I'm comin'," he said, taking the last turn of stairs. "Hang on, just hang on."

He wasn't sure which one of them he was encouraging, as he moved through the hallway, suddenly far too long and unending. Catching the light under the bathroom door, he pushed it open. His gaze swept over her body. She wore nothing but one of his old t-shirts with a pair of stolen boxers, the waistband curled under her expanding belly. Her hands pressed to the counter-top, streaked with blood. Looking down, he felt his heart catch at the sight of blood smeared on her shirt and thighs.

"Allison," he said. His voice thick with fear, swallowing hard to force it back down.

"Hurts," she curled over the sink, hands turning to fists, her hair falling into the sink bowl.

"Hold on," he pulled her close. Wrapped his arms around her, as her fingers dug into his bare back. "What hurts?"

"Back, hips, everything ..." she said. Breathing hard while he held her. "Came in here for my hand, I knocked over my teacup - sliced my hand picking up the pieces. The contractions - they just hit."

He wasn't a doctor - at least not a medical one - but he knew he had to get her help. _Please God, don't let this be a miscarriage._ The words washed his thoughts, a prayer to someone he hadn't asked for help, since he was a little boy. Now he'd done it twice in one night.

"Breathe Allie, breathe," he said.

His voice managing to convey strength, when everything else felt like Jell-o inside. She needed someone to take charge, someone to support her. He could do that.

"Can't, scared," she gasped.

Panic attack. God, she used to get those in high school. His brain spun as he tried to think of what used to work. Pattern, rhythm, repetition - even out her breathing. Get her thoughts focused on something else. Keep her calm.

"Allie, you're having a panic attack. I need you to relax."

"Panic _attack_, Nathan." She said. "Not conducive to relaxing."

"Yet your vocabulary remains intact."

"Nerd ..." She smiled by way of explanation.

Smiling back, he tucked her loose hair tenderly behind her ears, his thumbs stroking her jaw. Feeling her heartbeat beating rapidly under his palm. Looking down into those dark brown eyes, he knew he loved her more than he could ever put into words. For a moment, standing there with her face cupped in his hands, he contemplated kissing her. Slow and gentle, her lips pressed against his, tongue sweeping inside to map the interior of her mouth.

"Kissing me," she said between sharp breaths, "will make breathing harder."

His chuckled as she buried her face in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin, the heat of blush making his own cheeks tingle.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"I want to ... after Kevin's okay."

That got his own thoughts back on track. He had to get her to the hospital so they could monitor Kevin, and that hand was going to need stitches. Grabbing some materials out of the first aid kit under the sink, he bandaged her palm as best he could.

"You should not be a nurse," she said. Her breathing beginning to even as the wave slowly started to ease up.

"Well, it's supposed to be your job, but you had to go and get all panicky." He smiled.

"Bad me." She managed a soft smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Still hard to breathe; dizzy, shaking, pins and needles."

"I'm going to call Henry, we need to have you checked out."

Steering her out to the hallway, he laid her down on the carpet. It was warmer than the bathroom floor, and he had to get pressure off her cervix if she was having contractions. Gently, he tucked a pillow under her head, and covered her with a blanket from the hall closet.

"Don't go."

Her hand clamped around his wrist, as he moved to get up. Kneeling back down beside her, he took her shaky hand in his and pressed it against his chest, over his heart.

"Feel that?" He smiled when she nodded. "Count with me. One, two ..."

"Three," she whispered.

He nodded as she continued to whisper with each beat of his heart.

"I'm not leaving you, Allie."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't lose count, I'll be right back."

---

Dialing Henry's number, he tucked the phone against his shoulder as he began to pull together what they needed. Allie's over-night bag, slippers and robe. It was cool out tonight, his shirt and boxers wouldn't keep her warm enough. He needed to find himself some clothes too, reaching into her closet he pulled out a long-sleeve thermal and threw it on. Paused when he felt the fabric smoothed down over his skin, stared down at it. He was wearing one of Kevin's shirts, hidden in the back of her closet. For a moment, he couldn't move, the wave of emotion threatening to overtake him. The ringing phone jolted him back to the present.

"Come _on_, Henry," he growled. "Pick up the damn phone."

Two more rings and he'd hit the voicemail box. Not what he wanted. On the floor of her closet, he found her over-night bag, already packed. Always prepared.

"Allie, your inner Girl Scout is showing." He grinned.

"My inner what?" Henry's sleepy voice came over the line.

"Nice of you to wake up, Doctor Deacon."

"It's four in the morning, office hours are over." He huffed, and Nathan could hear him rustling around. "What do you want, Nathan?"

"I need to bring Allie in, she's having a panic attack and possibly contractions."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, I found her in the bathroom."

"I'll be right there, just keep her calm."

"Henry," he paused. The fear he'd been keeping down, surging up through his every nerve ending. How could he possibly ask this question?

"Once we get Allie there, we'll run stress tests on the baby. I'm sure he's fine."

"Kevin," he said softly. He felt so young again, all shaky and unsure of himself. He was grateful for Henry's presence, even over a phone-line. "His name is Kevin."

"I know." Henry's smile was nearly audible. "Get her ready, I'm on my way."

Tucking Allie's mobile into the pocket of her duffle, he peeked inside to see what might be missing. Toothbrush and paste, as well her hairbrush and deodorant. Quickly, he rummaged around the precisely organized half-bath connected to her room, until he found them. Her fluffy lavender robe was peeking behind the door, so he scooped it up. Caught the lingering scent of ginger, cloves and everything _Allison_. It made him stop, lift the soft, worn fabric closer and draw it in. Pulled that scent memory down inside him, one deep breath at a time.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he found her slippers by the bed and tucked them into the bag. Now he just had to find himself something warmer than boxers. Going back out into the hallway, he grinned when he heard her still quietly counting.

"How you doing, Allie-cat?"

"Two-hundred and twenty," she said.

"Count slower, we're still waiting on Henry."

He chuckled, slipping into the office where he'd moved his clothes. One of these days he might actually put a bed in here instead of living off the couch. Or maybe, if he was lucky enough, Allie might share his bed with him. With that thought in his mind, he dug through his dresser looking for a pair of track pants to pull on. He could've sworn he put away a pair earlier today, unless -

"Allison! Did you steal my track pants again?"

The soft, raspy laugh that came from down the hall was his answer. Shaking his head, he started looking for another pair of pajama pants. Muttering, while he dug through the drawer.

"Woman, if I didn't love you - ah hah!"

He pulled out the plaid blue ones, doing a little victory dance as he pulled them on. His shoes and coat would be downstairs. Picking up the bag, he lifted the strap over his head, slinging it over his shoulder as he walked out.

"Allie, baby, how -"

His question died off, as he saw Henry beside her in the hall. Dropping the bag at her feet, he knelt by her side.

"I let myself in," Henry said. "Found her passed out when I came in."

"I just went to throw on some clothes. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes ..."

"Nathan," Henry pressed a hand to his shoulder, "this is not your fault."

He nodded and wiped away tears with the back of his hand, before scooping her up into his arms. Kissed the crown of her head when it lolled against his shoulder. The feel of her breath against his neck endlessly reassuring. With a soft nudge, Henry pushed him forward and scooped up the bag. Following out the door to his truck.

---

She woke up slowly, the rough cotton sheets bunching under her hands, the distinct sounds of monitors beeping in her ears. Opening her eyes, she let herself adjust to the familiar blue light of Global's infirmary. In the low light, she could see Henry dozing in a chair across the room, his hands laced on his chest, legs stretched out in front of him and his ankles crossed. Nathan was laying half on the bed, his hand resting protectively on her thigh.

He looked so peaceful laying there, his cheek pressed against the blue blanket, curly hair mussed up into adorable bed-head. With a smile, she stroked his smooth cheek, ran her fingers through his thick hair.

"How long has he been here?" She asked, already knowing Henry was far from sleeping.

"All night. I had to practically pry you out of his arms, so they could put an IV in you." Henry raised his head, smiling softly. "The man is nothing, if not fierce when it comes to you."

She nodded, her finger tracing the shell of his ear, she didn't need Henry to tell her that. Nathan told her every time he carried her to bed, every look he sent her from across the couch, every night he stayed up with her, eating ice-cream and watching old movies until she fell asleep.

"Kevin, is he ..." Her eyes fell to the fetal monitor wrapped around her belly.

"He's fine, Allison." Henry walked up the bed, taking her trembling hand, thumb running over the heart monitor clasped to her finger. "You had some Braxton Hicks contractions, and that triggered your panic attacks. You were out for a bit, but the baby is fine."

"You did an ultrasound -"

"Twice."

"Stress test, blood work, blood pressure?"

"Done, done and done. Nathan demanded a full run." He smiled. "Kevin's perfectly healthy, strong heartbeat and - despite his mother giving his father a scare - he is perfectly calm."

She sighed, gently pressing a hand to Nathan's hair. Henry watched the tender moment in silence, they were so deeply in love but always fighting it. Whether they were fifteen or almost thirty, he mused, some things never changed.

"He was amazing," she whispered. "I was panicking, sliced my hand. He kept me calm, made me laugh, bandaged me up horribly ..."

Henry laughed. "The doctors stitched your hand. The monitor and IV are a precaution."

"When can I go home?"

"We're going to keep you here for observation, afterward ..." He nodded toward Nathan. "Ask Doctor Charming when he wakes up."

She looked down at him, running her fingers through the long curls at the base of his neck. His hair was growing out, silky between her fingers.

Henry patted her bandaged hand. "I'll be back in the morning, with breakfast."

"You spoil me." She smiled.

"Hardly," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Make sure the baby's okay - Kevin too."

Henry winked at her as she chuckled, and slipped out. The room was silent now, save for the beeping of machinery and Nathan's soft breathing.

"He'll make a pretty good dad one day, huh Kev?" She smiled down at her belly.

She watched Nathan sleep, struck by how young he looked at her side. The worry lines that seemed to be a constant feature in his expression these days, smoothed out and his thick dark lashes rested against his tanned skin. That mouth, capable of tearing an intern in two, or pressing against hers with such tenderness, closed in sleep.

"Allie," he sighed when she stroked his jaw.

She stopped moving, held her breath. Wished he would say her name like that again. With that soft sigh of tenderness and want, that has her insides tangling in knots. Felt Nathan's hand slid up, over her thigh until his soft palm and callused fingers spread across her belly.

She tried to wiggle down further on the bed, wanting to be closer to him.

"Allie?" He lifted his head, his gaze and voice still full of sleep. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"It's okay." He smiled, carefully checking the fetal monitor.

"Can I take it off?"

He hesitated, but she looked at him with those soft, dark eyes and he felt his spine melt. With a gentle touch he turned off the monitor, unbuckled it and slid it out from under her.

"Better?" He stroked her skin, irritated by hours under the scratchy belt of the monitor.

"Much."

She sighed, his touch felt wonderful against her skin. She closed her eyes as he drew patterns over her belly, making circles around her navel. His light tough igniting little tremors of desire, spiraling outward from her abdomen, down her legs and arms, making the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Her quiet noise of pleasure had Nathan chuckling.

"Want me to stop?"

"No, please." She opened her eyes.

"Allie ..." He whispered. She was watching him, warm and wanting.

The desire that he'd been holding in check since she moved in, was pushing to the surface again. Familiar and persistent. His pajama pants were doing nothing to hide it. Taking her hand, he brushed his lips against the back of it, and went to lock the door. Going back to her side, he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I love you." His voice shook, and he swallowed. "I would - if you wanted, an I wouldn't regret it."

"Nathan ..."

"But I think you might." He looked down, squeezed her hand. "I don't want you to regret us, Allie."

She cupped his chin in her hand, tilting his head up until those lovely green eyes met her gaze. Stroking the faint imprint of the blanket on his cheek and smiling. Her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, hearing his soft gasp.

"You can't touch me like that."

His breath danced over her palm, warm and moist. She found herself drawing in a breath, as he inhaled. Wrapped up in his slow, controlled movements; the intake of breath with the slightest shudder, the feel of his pulse beating just below her fingers, the way he turned toward her touch, kissing the center of her palm.

"You said you wouldn't leave me ... you didn't." She felt the brush of his lips against the inside of her wrist.

His eyes opened, green meeting brown. "I promised." His voice was low, full of emotions she couldn't name.

Allison could only nod, his gaze was so intense, it was easy to get lost in a sea of green and too thick eyelashes. She didn't even notice how close he was, until he was there, inches away with his hands cradling her face.

"Promises are made to be broken." She whispered, leaning into him.

His thumbs stroked her cheeks, as his words skated across her mouth. "Not mine."


End file.
